


The Windy City’s Night of Near-Infamy

by GhostFan77



Series: Crazy Little Thing Called Love [2]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Backstory, Desire, Drama, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Friendship/Love, Love, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-10 23:05:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15959459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostFan77/pseuds/GhostFan77
Summary: We learn just what happened that night in Chicago...





	The Windy City’s Night of Near-Infamy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and thanks for reading! This is part of a series, so it'd be advisable to read "Per Aspera Ad Astra" first. The events of this story are referenced, and things will probably make more sense. Enjoy!

It was late July and the band was on the final leg of their Black to the Future tour with shows in Mexico and then in the American Midwest, wrapping up in Green Bay, WI. I was still seeing Martin at the time, and both he and T wanted to spend time with me. The decision was made for me to join them in Iowa, and travel with the band for the last five shows. They had a few days off after back-to-back nights in Mexico City, so Martin and T opted to fly ahead to Iowa in lieu of traveling with the rest of the band and crew, and I met them there. I hadn’t seen my guys since my birthday in early June; they had flown me to Sweden to see the band perform on my birthday, and then to spend a few days with them before they headed to France for the next show. I ended up accompanying them to Paris, however; it had always been one of my favorite cities. Plus, the allure of spending time with me in one of the most romantic cities in the world was an opportunity Martin did not want to pass up. 

And it was also seeing me with Martin in the City of Love that caused the dam to break for T, leading to our night of near-infamy in Chicago, less than two months later. 

The three of us went out together our first night in town, and T was uncharacteristically quiet. Both Martin and I took notice, and we tried to get him to open up about what was bothering him. T, however, didn’t want to talk about it. Not even when it was just the two of us. I’d just get a smile tinged with sadness, and he’d tell me he wasn’t ready to talk about it. I suspected he was having problems with his marriage, suspicions that were confirmed by Martin as he had heard him fighting over the phone with his wife on a few occasions over the past months while the band toured. But still, if T wasn’t ready to talk about it, I wasn’t going to dig. 

The silence continued from Iowa to Minnesota, and then from Minnesota to Chicago; it was deafening and so unlike him. Our first night in Chicago, Ghost performed at Lollapalooza. I had been spending most of my time with Martin, but decided that I needed to spend time after the Lollapalooza show with T to see if I could get to the bottom of what was eating away at him. Martin didn’t like the idea, but he acquiesced. 

After the show, T and I hit a couple of bars, had way too much to drink, and eventually made it back to the downtown Chicago hotel the band was staying at between shows, going up to his room for a nightcap. I had finally been able to get him talking; not about what was bothering him, but just talking in general. He was much more like himself than he had been over the previous few days, and I considered it a good start. 

We lay in his bed, both of us on our backs. He had an arm around me, and I was using his upper arm as my pillow. A wine bottle and two nearly-empty glasses sat on the nightstand next to the bed. 

After a few minutes of silence, I decided to see if I could get my dear friend to open up. 

“So…are you going to tell me what’s going on…?”

He sighed, but didn’t otherwise respond. 

“Okay. How about this: I will guess, and you can either confirm or deny, and then we can go from there. Deal?”

I feel him nod. “Okay.” 

I sat up and turned around so I could face him. His alcohol-hazed green eyes looked back at me. 

“Are you mad at me about something?” 

He shakes his head. “No. I promise I’m not mad at you.”

“Alright. Are you mad at Martin about something?” 

He runs his hands through his hair and then over his face. “That’s a can of worms I can’t open right now. But it’s not what’s been bothering me, no.” 

Was there strife between Martin and T that neither had told me about? Oh no. They had both worked so hard to get where they were and had been friends for so long. I was going to save that inquiry for another time. 

“I hope you’ll talk to me about that eventually, T…”

“I will,” he said quietly. 

“Let’s see…” I looked around the room and faux-contemplated what could be wrong. I had wanted to say something about his wife since my first guess, but I didn’t want to go for the jugular right away. “Are you having…marital problems…?” 

His eyes met mine. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” 

I gave a slight shrug, and then nodded in confirmation. 

“And you just didn’t want to lead with that…?”

I gave a slight smile and shook my head. “No.” 

“That’s just part of it though, B. There’s so much more to it.” 

“Why don’t you tell me then…?” 

He sighs. “I’m going to need more to drink. Do we have anything stronger than wine in here…?”

I rose from the bed and unsteadily made my way to the mini-bar across the room. I surveyed our options and located a bottle of tequila. I grabbed a couple of shot glasses and the tequila, and then I carefully walked back to the bed. I set the glasses on the nightstand next to the wine bottle and glasses, opened the tequila, and poured some into each shot glass. I handed one to T, and kept one for myself. We clinked glasses and tossed them back. 

I wince at the burn from the alcohol. We had been mixing our drinks all night; tomorrow was going to be painful for both of us. At least I wasn’t the one who had a concert to perform…

“Another?” I ask him.

He grimaces but then nods and hands his glass to me. 

I pour up our shot glasses again, and return his glass to him. We clink glasses once more, and toss back our second shot of tequila. 

I almost gagged on the taste that time. “I’m so not a fan of tequila…!” 

He laughed. “Then why did you grab it in the first place? Trying to get me drunk?” 

He winks at me with a smirk. 

“Hate to tell you, T, but you’re already quite drunk, my friend!” That came out more slurred than I intended it to be. 

I set our glasses back on the nightstand, and he pulled me close to him. Maybe the guy just wanted to cuddle. It wasn’t uncommon for us. Or maybe he just needed a warm and soft body next to him? He had been having problems with his marriage; who knows the last time he had this? 

After holding me for a bit, I rolled onto my back so I was next to him. He moves to be on his side, facing me. His eyes wander up and down my body before his eyes meet mine. 

He shifts so he’s partially on top of me, his face mere inches from mine. I involuntarily close my eyes and breathe in his familiar scent. I could never tire of how he smelled, even with the alcohol. While my eyes were still closed, I felt his lips brush against mine. Exchanging drunken kisses wasn’t exactly new for us.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a full kiss. He did not resist in the slightest, meeting my kiss and then kissing me back. Our lips parted and our tongues danced together. 

Despite all the alcohol he had consumed post-concert, I could feel him getting hard against my leg. Well, that was certainly an interesting (and slightly impressive) development…

He shifted again so that he was fully on top of me, and the kissing intensified. We were now engaged in kisses far more involved and passionate than ever before. 

Our lips parted, and he rests his forehead against mine. “I love you.” 

Saying “I love you” wasn’t new for us either. We had taken to saying it to each other ages ago, the way you tell your close friends that you love them. Although for both of us, there was much more behind it, unbeknownst to the other. 

“I love you too, T…” 

He suddenly pulls back, flopping on his back. 

“No, that’s the problem…I fucking love you.” 

I rolled on my side to face him, confused, not understanding what he was saying at first.

“Why is that such a pr…?” And then the realization hit me, immediately seeing the problem. Problems, really: his wife. My Marvin. My mouth dropped open slightly, as I searched for words. Before I could find some carefully selected words, I heard myself tell him that I loved him. That I had loved him for years. 

He wasted no time in pulling me on top of him, our lips crashing passionately. Between kisses he managed to tell me that he had loved me since the night we met. I almost cried, choking out that I had loved him since that first night too. 

Hands started wandering, and eventually found skin under each others’ clothing. Our shirts came off and were discarded on the floor, as was my bra. We changed positions, and he was now on top of me. His mouth left mine and wandered across my jawline, down my neck and chest to my breasts. He grazed his tongue against one of my hardened nipples, earning a soft moan from me. He noted my response, and took my nipple fully in his mouth, licking and sucking it while gently squeezing my other breast; I could feel wetness growing between my legs. I moaned his name. His lips returned to mine. One of his hands wanders down my abdomen, down further until it was between my legs. He rubbed his fingers against my crotch and could feel dampness through my jeans, causing him to moan into my mouth. He breaks the kiss long enough to focus on unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans, and then kissed me again. I felt his hand enter my pants and slip under the waistband of my panties, but I stopped him before he could get any further. 

“Tobias, we can’t…” 

“Oh God, I want you so bad though…” 

I move under him, prompting him to roll off of me. He was on his back next to me again. 

I take his hand and bring it to my lips. “You know I want you as well, but you also know that we can’t.” 

He sighs, frustrated. “I hate that he gets to be with you. I fucking hate it. I hate seeing you with him. I hate it so fucking bad. And I hate admitting how fucking jealous I am over it because he has what I want, and I feel like he doesn’t appreciate you half as much as I would. You’re all that I want. More than anything in the universe.” 

The dam had broken. This was what was behind all the silence over the past few days. 

“You shouldn’t be with him. I shouldn’t be with her…” 

“We should be together,” I said quietly, turning my head to look at him, our eyes meeting. Our self-control faltered again, and he resumed his position on top of me, our lips locked together again. His hand quickly found its way to its intended destination, this time succeeding. He runs his fingers between my folds, feeling just how wet I truly was, and moaning upon his discovery. He removes his hand from my panties, bringing his fingers to his mouth to savor my taste. He groaned, and the look in his eyes reminded me of the way I’d imagine a shark’s eyes would look the instant it smelled blood. He moves down my body, yanking off my jeans and panties, centering himself between my legs. 

I knew I should stop him. I was trying to bring myself to do it, but I wanted him so bad. So. Fucking. Bad. 

He hesitated, seemingly coming to his own realization that we should not be doing this. I looked down and saw him struggling with himself. He closed his eyes and inhaled, taking in my essence, and then he kissed my inner thigh. 

“I’m sorry…I can’t. I want to, but fuck…I just can’t.” 

He slowly and reluctantly got up, reaching for my clothes on the floor as I was completely naked. He sets them on the bed next to me, and then he walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

Shell-shocked, I got up and got dressed. I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to make sense of it all. What in the world had just happened…? 

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom. 

I didn’t know if I should leave and go back to Martin, or if I should stay with T in his room. I decided on the former. I stood up, and quietly started walking towards the door. 

I hear his voice behind me. “Please don’t go.” 

I stop at the door, my back facing him. He walks over and stands behind me, putting his hands on my waist. “Please spend the night with me. Just give me tonight…let me hold you.” 

How could I say no to that plea? 

I couldn’t. 

I turn around so I can face him. My eyes met his green eyes, which were filled with both hope and sadness. We simultaneously reached out to embrace each other, holding on for dear life. The moment was more than we could take, and we broke down in each others’ arms. He stroked my hair; I caressed his back. We whispered to each other between sobs how much we loved each other, how we’d be together someday. We quietly agreed to continue on our paths with our respective significant others in the meantime without sabotaging our current relationships to hasten our shared desired outcome. 

I spent the night with him as he wanted, and we slept facing each other, locked in a tight embrace, like neither of us wanted to ever let go. When I woke up hours later, he was already awake. We exchanged no words, looking at each other knowingly. I leaned towards him and kissed the corner of his mouth. And then I got up, grabbed my shoes and purse, and walked to the door. I turned and gave him one last look. We didn’t need to say anything; our eyes said it all. Filled with love. Filled with longing. Filled with the promise of so much more. I opened the door and walked out, letting the door close behind me. 

So much was going to change for both of us over the next year, but there was no way for us to know that at the time. For now, all we had to look forward to was a vague “someday”, fueled by memories of that night in Chicago.


End file.
